


once we're alone

by whalersandsailors



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Prompt Fill, Secret Relationship, at really inopportune times, but what other times do they have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 13:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalersandsailors/pseuds/whalersandsailors
Summary: Mr. Jopson performs his duties as steward for their ailing captain. Acting commander Lieutenant Little inquires as to the wellbeing of the captain - but also that of a man he holds most dear.





	once we're alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onstraysod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onstraysod/gifts).



> Written as a prompt fill for 50 types of kisses: _#40: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them._

Thomas is on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the dark stain on the carpet beside the table where it leans heavily on the ropes that keep it suspended. The captain is finally asleep, tucked into his berth, mumbling deliriously through the sick-drenched dreams, and Thomas is using the brief respite from his vigil at the captain’s bedside to erase the poor man’s attempt at reaching the seat of ease on his own.

Even in his sleep-deprived stupor and through the layers of wool on his legs, Thomas can feel his joints ache from his position on the hard floor. The water for the rag is barely warmer than ice, and Thomas’s knuckles are cracked and raw from dipping into the basin and rinsing out the cloth. He blinks quickly as he feels his bloodshot eyes start to water, but when he sits up to rub at them with the back of his wrist, he winces as the itching burn only worsens.

There is a shuffling at the door to the great cabin, and Thomas’s back pinches from where he swivels to see who is there. When the familiar snout of Neptune slides the door open enough for the dog to push his head through the gap, Thomas sags and presses hand against the knot in his lower back.

“Hello, boy,” he says with a weary smile that wavers on his face for a short second before it fades.

Neptune sniffs at Thomas’s sleeve. His tail wags slowly, even cautiously, but he doesn’t move when Thomas drops his rag into the basin of water so that he can bury his face in the side of Neptune’s scruff. The dogs pants, his tail wagging faster, as he lets Thomas hug him loosely. Thomas exhales into the dog’s fur, and he feels some of  the day’s tension seep out of his bones at last.

Distracted as he is by Neptune, Thomas does not hear anyone else enter the great cabin until the door slides shut with a quiet thud against its frame. Thomas jerks his head up, his eyes wide, to see Edward standing before him. His face is red from the cold, bits of frost flecked through his whiskers.

Thomas stands quickly, Neptune lumbering out of the way.

“It’s not a good time, sir,” Thomas says in a hurried stream, “The captain’s only now fallen asleep.”

Edward raises a conciliatory hand. “At ease, Jopson. I don’t plan to intrude on the captain.” He pauses, his mouth grimacing as glances at the closed door to the captain’s personal space. “How is he?”

Thomas finds he has to search for the proper words. He resists brushing his hand along the fringe of his hair. “Better. His fever is lower. But he was delirious for most of today.”

Edward sidesteps what remains of the spot on the carpet as he moves close to Thomas and places his hands over the elbows of Thomas’s jumper. Thomas’s breath catches, and he spares an apprehensive glance at the closed door of the cabin before meeting Edward’s gaze.

“And you?” Edward asks, his voice a whisper.

Thomas’s lips start to tug into a frown, but with a clench of his jaw, he forces a small smile. “I’m fine, sir. No doubt caring for the captain isn’t any more difficult than what lies on your shoulders.”

Edward sees through Thomas’s bravado, but he doesn’t comment on it. There are shadows under his eyes, and a perpetual crease in his brow that Thomas wishes he could wipe away. It has been months since he has seen the tension gone from Edward’s face, and over a year since he has seen him laugh; truly laugh, not a brief chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh from his belly while his face brightens in a wide, toothy grin and his eyes crinkle with mirth. Thomas knows that there is not much to laugh at these days.

When Edward starts to sway on his feet, his eyes growing distant and his grip on Thomas’s arms slackening, Thomas beckons the man closer and guides his head to rest on his shoulder.

“How goes the preparations for Carnivale?” he asks, noise to fill the room and their minds, distractions profoundly needed by both of them.

Edward’s voice is muffled by his waistcoat. “They pitched the tent today. They’ll start moving furniture tomorrow.”

Thomas hums and turns his face so that his nose presses into Edward’s soft hair curling over the shell of his ear. Edward’s hands move from Thomas’s arms to his back. Thomas’s skin prickles from where he can feel the weight of Edward’s fingers pressing into his lower back.

“Have you decided on a costume?”

Edward groans. “Do I need one?”

Thomas smiles, more genuine than before. He slides his hands to the back of Edward’s neck, lightly massaging the skin. “Well, it _is_ a Carnivale. Wouldn’t you feel silly without one?”

Edward grumbles, and this time, Thomas laughs, under his breath, his shoulders quaking. Emboldened by his humor and their close proximity – his judgment clouded by fatigue – Thomas slides the edge of his fingers under Edward’s jaw so that he can lift his head. Edward has closed his eyes, but they flutter open when Thomas runs his thumb through the hair of his whiskers, wiping away what remains of the melting snow. Edward’s eyes search his face even as Thomas can stare only at his thumb where it traces along Edward’s jaw toward his chin, stopping right under his bottom lip. When Edward’s lips part, a question poising at the tip of his tongue, Thomas tilts his head up and kisses him.

The kiss is light, their lips barely touching. Their noses bump as both men are too tired to properly angle into the kiss, but Edward keens softly into the kiss to which Thomas responds by bringing his second hand to Edward’s face. His fingers slide through Edward’s whiskers to curl at the nape of his neck.

Edward’s eyes are heavy-lidded when Thomas pulls away, and the steward is about to suggest that he get some rest when Edward hooks a hand along the buttons of his waistcoat and yanks him back. Their teeth knock together as Edward kisses Thomas with a desperate hunger, born of out of this window of opportunity, their brief minutes of solitude, a rarity during these long years in the ice.

Thomas kisses back with an equal fervor, parting his lips wider and sliding his tongue against Edward's. He stumbles backward as Edward nudges one his thighs between Thomas’s legs. Thomas grunts when he collides with the table, half-sitting on the surface where it hit his backside. Edward uses the leverage to push his thigh up against Thomas's stiffening length. Heat sluices down Thomas’s spine and coils in his groin, and a choked, animal sound escapes Thomas, the noise raw enough that Thomas did not recognize his own voice.

As Edward's tongue swipes against the line of his teeth, Thomas gasps, panting hard as he pulls away. He turns his head when Edward surges forward, kissing and tonguing the sensitive skin along the tendons of his neck. Thomas watches the door to the great cabin, always conscious of the noise of _Terror_ ’s skeleton crew as it echoes down the hall of officer country, always anxious of how easily someone could open the door and find them in such a damning, compromising state. His eyes slip shut again with a sharp hiss and a whimper when Edward skims the flat of his palm against his clothed prick.

Still, he tries to temper his want, no matter how wildly he desires the lieutenant to keep prodding and prying, to lay him on the table, their shirts untucked and trousers unbuttoned, just enough that Edward can mount him and rub their pricks together until Thomas weeps from the pleasure and spills onto his stomach from the delicious, hot friction.

“Edward, Edward,” he pleads.

Something in his voice gives Edward pause, and as he pulls back to examine Thomas’s face, there is a clatter under their feet that jolts both men out of their sensuous haze. They separate, throwing distance between themselves as they right their clothes and hair. Edward glances uneasily over his shoulder at the door, and Thomas holds a hand over his chest, willing his heart to slow its frantic rhythm.

At their feet, Neptune circles restlessly, the source of the noise when the dog nearly tipped over the basin. Weaving between steward and lieutenant, the dog noses the door to the great cabin, scratching at the wood and whining.

There is a laugh, near hysterical, bubbling in the back of Thomas’s throat, but relief washes over him now that he knows his time with Edward is not about to be invaded by another officer. Thomas waits for Edward to let Neptune out, and when he closes the door behind the dog, Thomas crosses the space between them. He presses a quick, chaste kiss on the lieutenant’s lips. Edward’s eyes are closed and his lips still pursed when Thomas pulls away, and with an indulgent smile, Thomas strokes his hand down the side of Edward’s neck.

“You look exhausted. No one would be the wiser should you retire to your cabin for a short while,” Thomas says with a twinge of sympathy.

Edward stares at him, frowning but not arguing the point. The tips of his fingers ghost along the hem of Thomas’s waistcoat before he straightens and forces his arms to lie lax against his side.

“I should like to continue this later, Mr. Jopson,” Edward manages, his dark eyes boring into Thomas’s.

“Of course, sir,” he complies, looking at Edward through his eyelashes, fully aware of the effect his feigned innocence has on the lieutenant. “Shall I stop by your cabin this evening?”

“ _Yes,_ you shall,” Edward rumbles, anguished impatience lacing his words.

They kiss one final time before Edward exits the cabin. Left to his own fancies, Thomas finds it difficult to return his attention to cleaning or caring for the captain. Anticipation drags through his loins like a raging fire. There was promise brimming in Edward’s eyes before the lieutenant left: of what is to come once they have the added illusion of solitude in Edward’s cabin where they will share their warmth, tucked together in the narrow berth.

Thomas sighs to himself as he retrieves the basin from the floor. The night cannot come quickly enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr!](https:%5C%5Cwhalersandsailors.tumblr.com)


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